


A Room With a View

by ChettaDrabbles (KOranges)



Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Really just an excuse to to objectify Bucky Barnes for 1000 words, whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 16:47:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11627715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KOranges/pseuds/ChettaDrabbles
Summary: There were certain benefits to the pre-war building Steve lived in. It was rent controlled. It had a washer AND a dryer right there in the building's basement. It was walking distance to not one but two subway stops. His closest friends lived just 2 floors up. And the guy across the street liked to work out in full view of Steve's living room windows. Aside from the potential restraining order, it was the perfect set up.





	A Room With a View

**Author's Note:**

> Each of these drabbles are inspired by a prompt I received during an eight month long writing challenge. I'll only be sharing my favorites but every Tuesday & Thursday and I'll post a new one.
> 
> Prompt: "The only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it. Resist it and your soul grows sick with longing for the things it has forbidden to itself."

From Steve’s apartment on the third floor he could literally hear everything happening in the entire building. It was midway up and right on the landing, which was both a blessing and a curse. Everything echoed. Luckily their building was more quiet, private types that didn’t get into much trouble. At least not since Tony had convinced Pepper she should move into the penthouse with him. 

“It’s not that I dislike the man.” A voice trailed up the stairwell. “It’s just that he’s a little…” 

There was a laugh and he recognized Clint’s voice. “Weird. He’s weird, Nat. You can say it.” 

“He’s weird.” Natasha sounded resigned. Clint laughed. 

“And yet-” 

“I still kinda wanna see what he looks like naked.” She shot back as she opened the door to Steve’s apartment. They didn’t live there but it wasn’t locked and he wasn’t surprised to see them. They lived two floors up and almost always stopped in on their way up. 

“Who is this?” Steve was sitting at his drawing desk in the corner. Natasha went to the kitchen. 

“Wade Wilson.” She answered. She was rummaging through the leftovers in his fridge. 

“Who?” 

“Doorman for the building across the street.” Clint explained. Natasha came back in with a Tupperware container and a fork. From the look of it she had gotten into the leftover pasta from the night before. They settled on his couch while he worked. Every once in a while she would let Clint have a bite of the pasta but other than that they didn’t touch. If he hadn’t taken the engagement photos himself he would have never known they were anything but platonic friends.

“Weird Wade?” Steve asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“He’s hot.” Natasha smirked. 

“Crazy.” Clint corrected. 

“Crazy hot.” Natasha countered with a laugh. 

“I watched him talk with pigeons for fifteen minutes yesterday. Not at. With. He was waiting for them to reply.” Steve gestured towards the window which overlooked the street and entrance to Wade’s building. It was more utilitarian than the prewar apartment building he was in but it still had charm. Wrought iron fire escapes added oddly charming character to the beige brick front. 

“Good, then he won’t want to talk to me.” Natasha shrugged. 

“Have you met him? He talks to everyone.” Clint snorted. “A lot.” 

The conversation devolved from there into the myriad benefits of having a talkative partner. Steve went back to pretending to do the daily sketches he needed to turn in to the paper. He’d completed none of them and it was almost dinner time. He was having a lot of trouble focusing at the moment. Steve turned his head so he could see the old brick building across the street. When he saw that the window across from his was open he snapped his head back towards his drawing board. 

“Focusing on your work, I see.” He could hear the smirk in Natasha’s voice. 

“Just thinking about redecorating.” Steve tried to be casual and failed horribly. 

“You just redecorated.” Clint said, looking around. “I don’t like it.” 

“The desk was under the window.” Natasha pointed out. Clint just laughed. Steve blushed. 

“At least Wade knows who I am and that I ogle him.” Natasha challenged. 

“He called you a Hot Tamale and asked you out for Chimichangas. He might think you’re Spanish.” Clint pointed out. Natasha just looked down at the bright red of her hair and raised an eyebrow at him. But she didn’t argue. 

“The point being that at least I’m up front about being creepy.” Natasha shrugged. 

“I’m not creepy.” 

“The stash of sketchbooks nobody else gets to see begs to differ.” She challenged. 

They were in the corner next to where his desk had been before he’d dragged it to the side wall in a burst of frustration earlier that day. It’s not that he hid them per se but they were kept apart from the books that were tucked neatly into the bookshelf on the far wall of the living room. 

“It’s not…He just..He’s got.” Steve paused and fished for words. “a face.” 

“A face?” Clint sat up and feigned shock. “How unique. Never seen one in person before.” 

Steve blushed. “Shut up. Bucky is just-” 

“You literally only know his name is Bucky because you had me casually run into him when he moved in.” Natasha pointed out on a huff. She set the empty container on the coffee table. “And that was almost six months ago.” 

“I’ve been busy.” Steve lied through his teeth, staring down at the blank paper in front of him. 

“Not too busy to fill up three entire sketchbooks.” Natasha teased him. 

“I’m surprised you could fill up three sketchbooks, what with never seeing from more than a hundred feet away.” Clint eyeballed the distance to the other building. “Which will come in handy once he catches you and gets a restraining order.” 

Natasha laughed. Steve shook his head. “I just have really good eyesight.” 

“And a really active imagination.” She mocked him. 

"Again, useful for when he gets a restraining order." Clint pointed out helpfully. 

They left not too long after. It was getting later and Steve still hadn’t drawn a damn thing. He’d tried everything. It had been this way for a while now. He kept glancing across the street more and more as the sun went down but it stayed dark. Steve resisted the urge to check his watch and admit to knowing his not-so-new neighbor’s schedule that well. Every day for the last six months Steve had told himself he wasn’t going to watch. But then every day, ever since the first day when he’d been so surprised he nearly spilled an entire glass of wine on the floor, he settled into the deep chair by his window and watched anyway. 

When the lights finally flicked on in Bucky’s apartment, Steve could barely contain the knot of excitement in his chest. He tried to be casual about it but definitely cleaned up his desk and moved to the chair by the window in a little bit of a hurry. He reached for his sketchbook and pencil without thinking about it and settled in, slowing down only to make sure he turned off all of the lights. It was only about a thirty minute thing. Honestly, such a small part of his day constituted actually creeping (even if the thinking and the drawing and the everything else took up a much larger portion of his time). Every day right around seven Bucky would come in, toss some takeaway garbage into his trashcan and walk to his room. He turned on every single light as he went and Steve didn’t know why he found that so much more amusing. 

His neighbor was fucking gorgeous. At first he’d been captivated by the way he moved around his room, which was the window that lined up with his, but Steve wasn’t going to lie and say that the way Bucky slowly undressed at the end of every day wasn’t really, unfairly attractive. It was. Incredibly so. It had become the highlight of Steve’s day and he realized how insane that was. 

Bucky was clearly former military. He had the Eagle Globe and Anchor in sharp detail on his back where skin met the metal of prosthetic arm. His hair had been allowed to grow long but the rest of him could probably still pass the PRT if necessary. He was all defined muscle and tan skin. Not sharp edges but definitely hard ones. Steve watched as he moved around his room, dropping clothes as he went, and stretching out the stress of whatever it was he did all day. Next was a series of exercises- Steve’s favorite part, if he was being honest- just a few pull ups and arm curls and what looked like crunches. He disappeared then for a shower which Steve used as a quick run-and-get-a-drink break. He was typically feeling pretty thirsty right about then. 

When he sat back down with his water he nearly choked mid drink. Not only was Bucky dripping wet from his shower but he was towel-less. Steve swallowed and froze, half in his chair and half standing. He didn’t want to move in case this was some kind of hallucination because it was perfect. In this one instance his imagination had definitely fallen short. He couldn’t even help his growing arousal but an equally large part of him just wanted to draw it. Him. Both. He fell into the chair uneasily and just stared. He couldn’t tear his eyes away. In his head he was already picturing it- the scenes that would definitely turn into drawings later. 

Bucky looked like the type to like it a little rough. Steve’s mind pictured the two of them pressed together, tangled in the sheets of Steve’s bed while Bucky made him beg for it. When the lights turned off at Bucky’s apartment Steve just let his head roll back onto the couch and squeezed his eyes shut, imagining it. He hated that he was hard. Jerking off over a guy he hadn’t met felt a little wrong. But his body moved almost without his willing it too and before he even had time to fully register what he was doing he had made a mess on his hand and the floor in front of him. 

He stayed up drawing it in a series of sketches. Scene for scene. The exact way he imagined it. He couldn’t not commit it to paper because it was the only thing his mind seemed capable of drawing anymore. He didn’t even know how many different scenarios he’d drawn out. 

It was almost two in the morning and Steve’s eyes felt like newspaper. There were only a few more drawings he wanted to get laid out and then he would sleep. That was, until Steve noticed the light come on at Bucky’s. He stood without thinking about it and walked to the window, even though his lights were on. He sucked in a quick breath when he realized Bucky- at least not wearing pants- was right in his open window, leaning into the cool air. 

When they made eye contact, Steve froze. Bucky smiled and waved and Steve panicked. He dropped to the floor and decided to pretend that Bucky hadn’t seen him. Maybe he hadn’t. Maybe he had been waving at someone else. Steve moved to his knees and slowly lifted up to peek around the window sill. Bucky was gone. The light was on and he could see that nobody was in there. He must have gone into one of the other rooms. That’s all it was. Nothing weird here. 

The knock on his door nearly made him jump out of his skin. 

He tried to play it cool. A look through the peephole told him it was Bucky. He took a deep breath and decided to be casual. There was very little chance that Bucky knew he was spying on him at all. He hadn’t gotten caught doing anything. 

“Hi.” He was really bad at this. His voice was high and cracked and his face flushed a bright red. 

“Hi.” Bucky smiled at him. He had pulled a thin shirt on but was still in his pajama bottoms. 

“Sorry.” Steve remembered his manners and gestured or Bucky to come in. The other man did and looked around curiously. 

“It’s smaller than I thought it was.” He said casually. He was perfectly calm. 

“Can I help you?” Steve asked. Bucky just walked in and leaned against the inside wall. 

“Couldn’t sleep. Figured it was time I introduced myself.” Bucky grinned widely. “Since it’s been six months of you spying on me.” 

Steve sputtered. “I haven’t.” 

“You have. And here I thought getting naked would definitely get you to come over.” Bucky didn’t seem bothered by it at all. Steve just opened and closed his mouth a few times. That was until he noticed Bucky getting close to the drawing table where Steve’s sketchbook laid open. 

He didn’t even know he could move that fast. But he had that book closed and in his hands before Bucky could even register that Steve had moved. When Steve held the book to his chest, Bucky just raised an eyebrow. 

“Related to your not-spying adventures?” 

“I’m an artist.” Steve defended. “It’s personal.” 

Neither of them moved for a second. When Bucky went to take the book from him, Steve relented and let him grab it. “If you’re drawing me, I want to see it, Steve.” 

“You know my name?” Steve asked. But Bucky ignored him and flipped through the sketches. 

Bucky's eyes went wide at one page. He was gone a second later, book with him. Steve was left confused and a little hurt. But also exhausted. He figured he had weirded Bucky out with his drawings of him and didn’t really expect to hear from him again. Steve wouldn’t be surprised if Bucky moved apartments over it. He barely slept and when the sun came up he waited until the last possible moment before getting up to work out. 

He couldn’t help looking over at Bucky’s apartment as he poured his coffee and felt a pang in his chest when he noticed every single curtain was pulled closed. That was until he saw the note taped to the glass of what Steve knew was Bucky’s bedroom. 

_I’d rather do this in person.  
You. Me. Sketchbook. 8 p.m. _

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Please let me know what you think with kudos/comments!! I really appreciate any feedback. I've pasted three links below to fics of mine I think you'll like if you liked this one!
> 
> [Happiness](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10921314)   
>  [The $100,000 Pizza](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11490714)   
>  [Sometimes All You Can Do is Drink Coffee](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11146968)


End file.
